Show Lyrics

Propaganda - We Are
(from the album Out of Knowhere)
© copyright 2003

Hook. We are 2 of a Kind born to rhyme
We Speack as stones thrown in pond rippling time
Lookin' inside to find the sunrise
unite on fight to walk on sunshine
x2

Verse 1 Sharlock Poems
Pen to hand ink to paper think greater mimic creator/
Soul saver embrace you love you not hate you/
Smile now cry later walk the earth in strength/
passionate about being passionate
My joy express it/
My learned lesson in confession you fine peace/
The soul weeps the mind soundly sleeps/
I rhyme to beats that create clear vision/
My time lines in the vine my life is written/
There's no more forgetting where I came from/
Dirt of the earth I'm A walking lump some/
I for one speek volumes like the word freedom/
Oh playing def watch me close my lips read them/
Off beat them my soul high beam them make you squint/
I'll punch A dint in your think tank call me A wimp/
I'm from the symph wish the earth peace and growth/
Swear by the bible not just cause I'm under oath.

Hook

Verse 2
The return of the Mic Burner, life a page turner/
Story told in old school rhetoric/
Young you betta get
A grip on them words so that tongue will never slip/
Keep mine in line in time will form fit/
And change your aggression/
An anti-depression, rip mic session/
Lessons learned props to earn, crews to turn losers/
Fooled ya from birth bruisers/
Stand quiet in the background y'all wonderin' how the ground shook/
Now look, seven records deep in the plan its propagand'/
Son of God and son of man fallin' off the beat never/
Challenge me I'm way to profound to stay underground/
In the since of unheard/
Half baked word/
I'm designed for the nations to embrace what I'm sayin'/
Tunnel Rats we ain't playin we breakin and D.J. in'/
And splittin' the wack spittin' freestyle and written.

Hook

Verse three
Feel me everybody who be hearin' my voice/
We remain y'alls everybody rejoice/
Amazin' outside the paint rainin mind drainin'/
And pain come in waves I'm workin' to maintain it/
If you understood, you'd regret if you'd ignore/
An open mind flow spillin' rhyme on the floor/
The illist orator, cosistant with them metaphors/
I'm betta for all the junk I endure/
Came through that corridor and to vibe is a must but/
I write too much thus I buss in sir-plus/
Sometimes over anxious okay I'll admit it,/
I be thinkin' at a high beat per minute/
And it's forcin' um to open more doors then Jim Morrison/
And tap into a place that seems foreign to them/
I'm never borin' to um/
Be the illist illustrator/
To ever have the guts to up rock on the Equator.

Hook: